


black fog

by verity



Series: tween wolf [29]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Epilepsy, Friendship, Gen, Party, Pool Party, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't know," Erica says. "Would you be able to—with the—" She points to her head.</p><p>"Yeah, sure," Stiles says, braking for a stop sign. "Really, you're doing me a favor here. Otherwise I'm just going to drink and beat Scott with pool noodles until one of us pukes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	black fog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clio (clio_jlh)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio_jlh/gifts).



The next time Stiles takes Erica out to practice driving, they practice driving through a sleepy residential neighborhood, slow waves and circles, only right-hand turns until Erica gets more confident. They stop at an Arco at the end to fill up and switch places. While Erica pays, Stiles wipes the clear-sight ointment off his lids. He can't drive with that stuff on—he keeps seeing auras and natural power sources and sometimes, depressingly, ghosts.

On the way back, Erica's jittery, tapping her fingers against her knee and looking out the window. Right when they get off the high way, she clears her throat and says, "My mom thinks we're—dating. She talks about it all the time, and she just won't—let up."

"Um." Stiles glances at Erica quickly out of the corner of his eye. It's not that he doesn't like Erica, or doesn't think she's pretty, but she's his _friend_. She has all the erotic appeal of Scott, and Stiles sees Scott's naked, werewolf-y ass on the regular. "That's awkward?"

"She keeps saying you're—really nice, and on the lacrosse team, and look, I can be like a normal teenager, you know, Mom stuff—" Erica's shoulders sag. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

"Look, it's fine," Stiles says, because other people have moms, he gets it. They're not talking about _his_ mom, who never tried to reassure Stiles that he was ordinary.

Erica shakes her head. "No, it's not."

They're on familiar territory again, passing the high school, the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell, the closed video rental store with its _Going Out of Business: Everything Must Go!_ sign. It's not that much farther to the subdivision where Erica lives. "Would she—do you want to go to a party? Lydia's having a pool party on Friday, and my friend Allison's making me go."

"I don't know," Erica says. "Would you be able to—with the—" She points to her head.

"Yeah, sure," Stiles says, braking for a stop sign. "Really, you're doing me a favor here. Otherwise I'm just going to drink and beat Scott with pool noodles until one of us pukes."

—

Since he's both seizure-spotter and designated driver tonight, Stiles isn't getting in the pool and he isn't drinking. Maybe Erica will want to swim. Stiles pulls on board shorts beneath his Batman t-shirt anyway and throws his flip-flops in the back of the Jeep with along with a towel and some sunscreen. He sticks the mini-Altoids tin full of clear-sight ointment in his pocket and adds an embroidered handkerchief for extra protection. Just in case.

Erica texts him on the way over: _my mom wants to talk to you D:_ Because that's clearly the worst fate in the entire world. 

_you'll survive_ , Stiles texts back the next time he has to wait for a light.

This isn't the first time Stiles has been over to Erica's house: she and Boyd are usually his partners for group projects, and they meet here because Erica's parents are overprotective, Boyd has three younger sisters, and Stiles never has enough snacks. Stiles knows all of the outlets in Erica's living room (laptop), which cabinet the glasses live in (Diet Coke), and the location of guest bathroom (also Diet Coke). He's met Mrs. Reyes plenty of times, because she works from home and doesn't mind heating up enough frozen taquitos for all of them as long as they clean up.

Erica answers when he rings the bell, face grim. "Come in." She gestures to where her mom is waiting in the hall and practically glowing with excitement.

"Oh, Stiles, it's so nice of you to take Erica out, it really is." Mrs. Reyes reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. "You're going to Lydia Martin's, right? There'll be an adult supervising?"

Daphne's—sort of an adult. "Definitely," Stiles says.

"Erica needs to be home by eleven," Mrs. Reyes says. "And no drinking, you understand? You're driving, and Erica's medication—"

Stiles holds up his hands in surrender. "I know the law, Mrs. Reyes—my dad's the Sheriff. And I don't want Erica get sick, like, obviously. I'll take care of her. Promise."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Reyes says, dabbing at her eyes. "You're such a nice boy."

—

"Well, that wasn't the most humiliating moment of my life or anything," Erica says, buckling herself into the Jeep. "I can take care of _myself_ , okay."

Stiles fumbles with the keys. "Yeah, I know. I didn't mean—"

"It's cool," Erica says. She sighs.

—

The party is—it's like all of Lydia's parties. Really attractive people, drinking things that taste really delicious but always end up with Stiles puking somewhere while Scott rubs his back and fusses over him. Stiles camps out over by the grill and eats way too many hot dogs; Erica has a cheeseburger with lettuce instead of a bun. The most entertaining thing going on is Daphne playing strip poker with Laura's brother on the porch. Derek's losing. Badly.

"Hey," he says, catching Erica's eye before nodding over at them. "Do you want to play—bridge or something?"

(Boyd's grandpa is some kind of international bridge champion. They've played a few games with Boyd's sister Marian.)

Erica flushes. "I—I don't know. Is that Lydia's cousin?"

"No, Daphne's her sister, it's fine, I know her." Stiles gets to his feet, tugs at Erica's sleeve. "Come on. It'll be fun."

—

The first thing Stiles notices is Erica's aura, which goes from a cool blue to warning!warning!yellow in about five seconds. _Fuck_ , she can't seize out here, the floor's tile the whole way through.

Then someone screams behind him and Stiles twists around to see Allison, kneeling by the pool while black fog rises from her shoulders.

She's not the one screaming.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
